I Slow My Steps and Start to Blur
by A Vague Shape In The Dark
Summary: Series of random moments that do not particularly pertain to the series. Very short one-shots.
1. She Hopes to Open Shadowed Eyes

A/N: These really don't make any sense but Merlin won't leave my mind. These were borne of music: The Cure's _Staring at the Sea. _

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~o~O~o~

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Mab happily pressed her mouth to Mordred's cheek, holding the little boy tightly to her body. "Your mother bore you," she said, her voice soft, as though talking to herself, "but you mustn't ever forget who you in truth belong to. Who cares for you the most." The child babbled, not as a response, but lost in its own mind.

Sighing, the fae Queen released the babe from her arms and watched as his small body made staggering movements across the tiles before his letting his full weight purposely fall to the floor.

Eyes alight, smiling, Mab raised her arms and flung from her hands miniscule gray clouds. They in droves wavered in the air high and low, blown by an invisible force, moving slowly with the same motions of blindly navigating fish.

Mordred clapped seeing the clouds hover over him, then looked down in surprise as several wooden blocks appeared in his hands. "Throw them, my sweetie, throw them!" Mab urged, sitting cross-legged beside Mordred on the floor. Her pearl face glistening with pinks, blues and purples.

Mordred did not at first comprehend his Auntie's instructions, so Mab, understanding this, took a block from his hand and threw it at a cloud, causing both to on impact disappear. A shower of shattered embers left the belly of the cloud before merging to form a small cake which fell to an awaiting plate then hurried from one side of the room to another so it could stop at Mordred's feet; wordlessly asking to be consumed.

"See, what fun! What fun!" Mab eagerly clapped her hands. "Now you try."

Mordred threw a block and hit the nearest cloud. Finding success, he quickly threw another, hitting his target again, and again, raining prince-bisket, gaylede and tartes.

"Oh my sweets, how they fly, how they fly."

She summoned a cake in her hand and pressed a tiny portion between his teeth.

"Your Auntie Mab loves you. She does." She licked the cream from her left hand. "Don't you love your Auntie Mab?"

Mordred was silently lost in sickness.

"Yes, of course. Mordred loves his Auntie," she said, finishing in a hum, fingering through his curls.

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~o~O~o~


	2. Whatever Words I Say

~o~O~o~

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Morgan le Fay stretched in bloodless light. Her arched silhouette in a smoky blur traced the outline of her swaying body; the only darkness within a white enclosure. Beside her Frik released magic in swirls of ink, making music consume every corner and all in between. Morgan felt music behind her ears, her eyes, in her bones. Her teeth. She ran her tongue over the ivory under lips, feeling the beat of the music as though her pulse.

A strap of her gown fell from a shoulder as she stared at Frik, wickedly grinning; cackling. She tore the other strap down to match. He laughed seeing her, and wrapped his hand around a thin, bare shoulder drawing her towards him.

She leaned into the crook of his neck before making to run. He followed, his reaction more fitting a gnome than the creature he pretended to be.  
They glided the halls. An almost blinding, inhuman glow from outside was bleaching in, through the glass ceiling, floor and walls surrounding them.

In ceaseless light they flew to the demand of music. Their feet crossing another.

Frik nearly fell once he met the ground in leap, but took Morgan's hand, steadying himself, spinning her; her hair appearing as translucent webs soaked in reflected fire.

Pale legs kicked from raised heavy skirts. Blonde hair over pink skin shown as a ghostly crown against white

Her feet arched as she jumped, skipped. Grabbing hold of Frik's hand she ran in a circle with him; forgetting she was adult.

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~o~O~o~


	3. Wait Until Three

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Merlin waved a hand over Nimue's hair and shoulders in a half-hearted attempt to lull her to sleep. The sky was a dark blue, and floating in the air and about their swinging bed were hundreds of tiny gray and brown feathers, presumably left from some unseen creature. "There is nothing in all the realms that could make me want to leave you," Merlin absently said, his face inches from Nimue's.

"You do not have a choice," Nimue replied, the smile on her lips not reaching her eyes. "You will leave with the sun."

"What do you mean?"

"You're not supposed to be visiting me, especially not in bed. The sisters would not think it right," Nimue said vaguely, with a hint of amusement. "But to my benefit they cannot see you. If presently they happen on my body they will see only a figure lost in dreams."

Merlin didn't at first understand, then realized they were both already asleep and that he was visiting her dreams through his own. Nimue nodded, knowing that he finally grasped their situation. "You're using magic to see me."

He sighed. "It was not my intention, Nimue. While asleep my want to see you apparently exceeds any remaining moral inhibitions."

Nimue laughed. "Why apologise? I'm so glad that you're here. I've missed you."

"Oh, Nimue, don't think for a second that I am not happy to see you as well. I didn't mean that." He stroked her cheek. "I've missed you. You can't know how much I have." Merlin moved to study the feathers in his hand. "However, it is rather disquieting to discover I am so lacking in control."

"But this is only a dream."

"Yes, but what might I do in the future? A life could be ruined from a message sent in dreams."

"So many dismiss visions, though. They see them only as flights of fancy. You shouldn't worry."

"If only it were that simple."

"But it is. You visit me. You don't fly to inform others of your plans or see the wicked. Even if they are in your thoughts while conscious, you have not the time to see them in rest because you go only where you most desire, where your heart lies: with me."

Merlin reached for Nimue's hand and pressed her fingers to his lips, kissing them; wishing he could somehow account for the recently dreamed plumes of smoke bleeding into the laughter of a clinquant Queen.

~o~O~o~


End file.
